


Chef's Special

by mystiri1



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 21:58:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18107291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1
Summary: Coctura has always been reasonably self-sufficient and adaptable.





	Chef's Special

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Author's choice, author's choice, There's a level of panic and disbelief

Everybody had noticed the days getting shorter, even though it was mostly talked about in hushed voices and quiet corners. It's been affecting business at Galdin Quay; customer numbers are down, but due to the difficulty travelling, most stay for at least a week.

Still, nobody is expecting it the day the sun simply doesn't some up at all.

Coctura has a routine, one that starts reasonably early. And when she first started at the Mother of Pearl, she loved seeing the sunrise over the ocean, would sneak a few minutes in the evening to watch it set. But sunrise got later and later, and she was usually busy when it happened. As she's still reasonably busy, she doesn't notice at first how late it is, but midday passes, and the light level remains unchanged.

There's a tension building in the air. Nobody comes to a beachside resort to sit in the dark, after all, and there had been about six hours of sunlight the day before. Galdin Quay is well-lit, but it's not the same.

By two, it's obvious no sunrise is coming.

There's a level of panic and disbelief. It's mid-afternoon; the sun never rose, and the daemons are still out. For all they dislike the sun, many daemons bring their own light with them, a crackle of dark violet power that is visible from a distance. And there's really no missing the Red Giant on the hillside, with its flaming sword. Coctura thinks she can see a few Ice Bombs, pale icy-white orbs that trail cold behind them. And she knows that goblins frequently spawn along the cliff-face.

Galdin Quay is an oasis of artifical light, one that the daemons don't quite dare appraoch. Staff encourage the customers to sit down in the restaurant, have a few drinks and a bite to eat, maybe try a massage, on the house. There's a small stretch of beach well-bounded by lights and pier; a few more staff supervise children there. A hunter who'd been staying overnight in the caravan between hunts stands protectively close, watching the water, but even the children prefer to stick to the well-lit sand.

It's the second day panic really sets in, and no 'peaceful, beachside relaxation' is enough to combat it. Coctura is not really sure how many people convinced themselves the day before was a fluke, but the sun is definitely not rising, nor is it likely to do so tomorrow. That means problems: endless night means endless daemons, and most of these people were here for a vacation. Yes, travelling had been dangerous before, but there had been still been safe times to travel; now they're gone.

She's part of the hunters network, so she makes some calls, then rallies the staff for a meeting. Even though she's really only in charge of the restaurant, nobody argues. They have some advantages: Galdin Quay is well-supplied, and has it's own emergency generators if anything happens to the power. Hunters are evacuating smaller settlements, encouraging outlying residents to head to larger towns that are more easily defended, and offering escorts. But because Galdin Quay is both small, and well-supplied, it puts it down the list of priorities.

Her uncle has been lurking around on one of his fishing trips, although he never comes to the restaurant himself. Coctura sends the hunter to fetch him from the nearby Haven, along with powerful storm lanterns and one of the braver staff who claims to have some fighting skill. Navyth comes back with them; Coctura tartly informs him he can stay in the caravan or the resort itself, but that they can use all the fish he can catch to feed people and stretch supplies further. He meekly agrees, but she catches him grinning and saying proudly to the hunter 'that's my niece, Coctura,' as she bosses more people around.

Staff canvass the guests to find who is from where, and work out where they're actually going to go now. A few are concerned about getting back to their own homes, but most are happy to go to Lestallum or a larger town, as long as they can gather some belongings. After the fourth day of no sun, even the more stubborn are willing to admit life will not go on as it has before. They do their best to keep everybody fed, occupied and mostly calm.

Three weeks in, a cavalcade of well-armed hunters turn up. They're driving in convoy, powerful floodlights mounted to the top of their vehicles to ward off daemons. The first lot of guests leave, followed by the rest a week later. Most of the staff head off as well, but Coctura's been talking to the resort management. The hunters could use a base of operations nearby; the owner is somewhat reluctant until she points out that they're probably willing to help with the upkeep, and an empty resort is not making any money in the first place.

She stays to feed them, and Navyth stays, too. Many of the hunters are a little uncomfortable with the high-end rooms of the resort itself; a tent city forms in the carpark, and the caravan sees heavy use. She gets her uncle to accept a room, simply by telling him he's being ridiculous.

It's an interesting challenge, cooking for the hunters; supplies are tight now, but her uncle catches plenty of fish, and the hunters bring her odd cuts of meat from non-daemonic monsters. Sometimes they're so odd that she suspects it's just to see if she _can_ cook them. Coctura has always been reasonably self-sufficient and adaptable, the result of travelling with Navyth when younger. She could cook over a campfire, if necessary. Here, she doesn't have to, still has her high-end kitchen with all its equipment and a well-stocked spice cabinet.

Two months later, the hunters are ready to depart. The area is mostly empty of anything but daemons, residents evacuated or just gone, and they're being pulled back to cover more vital areas. The idea of heading to Lestallum to cook in another fancy restaurant sounds less appealing in the wake of doing something useful. Coctura decides she's going to another outpost, to feed hunters there, and she's more than a little proud that 'her' hunters look positively delighted at the idea. They fall over themselves telling her about the outposts they're most familiar with, in the hope she'll pick somewhere they might be stationed.

She picks one that is protecting farmlands, fields still necessary to the production of food even if it's happening under artificial lights. Navyth announces he's coming too, although he claims its because there's a fishing hole nearby.

Coctura rolls her eyes, and makes sure she packs the spice cabinet.


End file.
